


Guardian of Earth

by Miss Anne Thropy (Rahndom)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author is not sure where this is going, BAMF Vegeta, But I'll try to stick as close to Dragon Ball as I can, Butterfly Effect, Goku is bad at feelings, He gets better i promise, M/M, Piccolo is bad at feelings, Smart Vegeta, What-If, really bad fight scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahndom/pseuds/Miss%20Anne%20Thropy
Summary: The pod slowly rose into space, gaining speed as it disappeared from sight, lost to the planet that was the children's home.“Protect his Highness, kakarotto,” Bardock whispered to the night air. “Our future rests with you both.”-----------A what if that sprung after reading too many Dragon Ball Minus and all the theories of the lore DBS introduced. Prince Vegeta arrives on Earth with the third class Kakarotto. Now that their world and their race has died, it is up to him to keep them both alive.No matter the cost.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 90





	1. Prologue.

Bardock couldn't stop staring at his son, his baby boy. The disappointment, the one that was about to be sent away, innocent and sleeping in his pod, ignorant of the silent war going off around him, of the fate of his race. 

Gine had cried, had held Raditz in her arms as her husband informed her of their son’s destiny. 

They were going to die. 

But Kakarotto would live.

Kakarotto would avenge them all.

She had wanted to accompany him, to stare at her child in the eyes one last time and profess her love to him. Have him remember her voice, her words, her scent. But Bardock knew, deep down inside of him, that it would only hurt them all.    
  
And he did it alone. 

He hacked the pod and redirected its course to a fertile planet with a weak and complacent population far away from them, so far it would lose itself from Freezer’s radars and sensors, never to be seen or heard from again. 

Whatever, happened, Kakarotto would be safe until they could come for him, or until he was the only one left.

He was about to press the button to launch the pod into space when his nose caught the faintest wisp of a scent not too far away from him. A fresh scent of grass after a storm and the molten winds of the desert lands, calm and deceptively dangerous, yet fresh and sweet with the honeyed tinge of youth.

Bardock's eyes widened when he realized who it was. 

Only two saiyans in the whole planet smelt like that. Like power and control and calm at the same time. The scent that marked the royal family with the blessings of the goddess herself, gifting them with quick minds ready for strategy and wills so strong not even a supernova could bend their resolve.   
  


Generals amongst soldiers.

He approached the scent slowly, making sure to move upwind as to not alert the other saiyan of his presence and sure enough there the child was, Prince Vegeta in all his glory, sitting alone on a rock, dark eyes set on the stars, a frown marking his young face with appeared to be worry. 

Bardock had heard the rumors, had listened in to whispers of the tyrannical Freezer and his apparent interest in their young prince. An honor and opportunity for grandeur, some lower class soldiers had said in awe, a political hostage and means to subjugate their proud warrior race, the elites hissed to themselves. 

One thing was clear.

Freezer wanted to hold the future of their planet, the one who held the key to the saiyans for generations to come in his grasp. 

Bardock shuddered at the mere thought.

He was moving before his own mind registered such fact. 

He tried to tell himself it was a calculated move. If Freezer could use their young prince for his twisted needs, so could Bardock. If the Prince himself went missing, the King would stop at nothing to bring him back, to protect his only son and heir. If he kidnapped the Prince and sent him on the pod with Kakarotto,  _ His  _ son's chances of a safe retrieval were tenfold. 

He bit his lips, willing himself to believe it, to believe he was doing this, commiting the gravest sin, because of his child, his weak Kakarotto.

Deep down he knew he wasn't.

Deep down his blood sang with the instinctual drive of the Saiyajin. The bred loyalty and pride all warriors had for their royal family. The knowledge passed by flesh generation over generation that the monarchs of Vegitasei were unique, important, so absolutely vital for the survival of their race, for they were the ones who held the bloodlust of their race at bay, they were the only ones who could direct it, control it, command it.

Bardock tried, he tried so hard, to convince himself he was as cold as the King himself, as calculating in his strategy.

In reality he could only think of this child who inspired such loyalty, such hope for a glorious future in all of them, held by Freezer's cold hands, submitted to that disgusting lizard's will. 

The prince, only five years old - younger than Raditz, so absurdly young - didn't even have time to react before Bardock's hand connected with his neck and a soft exhalation left his lips as he fell unconscious in the older saiyan's arms. 

Kakarotto whined a little as his father moved him from the seat, but instantly calmed as he was placed on the unconscious young Prince's chest, his little tail wrapping around the child's wrist with a contented sigh. 

Bardock stared at them both, the future of their race, doing his best to ignore every instinct that screamed at him he was making a mistake…

...and pressed the button to send them off.

The pod slowly rose into space, gaining speed as it disappeared from sight, lost to the planet that was the children's home.

“Protect his Highness, kakarotto,” he whispered to the night air. “Our future rests with you both.”


	2. Arrival

Vegeta woke up to sunlight hitting his skin. Not the scorching heat he might have expected, but a soft warmth that reminded him of the coldest seasons spent on the wetlands, of familiarizing himself with the patterns of the air and the pulsating water under the ice, his father’s steading hand on the back of his neck.   
  
Idly he wondered if he had fallen asleep while meditating outside of the citadel, and had that been the case, he knew his father would be disappointed and would most likely extract his punishment during their morning training, but then he realized his last memory was of the scent of another adult saiyan before he knew no more and there was an ache to his neck, to his limbs, that spoke of no exhaustion.

His eyes flew open, his back protests ignored as he jumped out of what appeared to be a bed - and his jump was so high, as if his own body weighted far too little - in a small house full of colors he had never seen before. 

“Ara, you are awake!” a soft voice called, startling him. Vegeta instantly forced his sore muscles into a defensive position, trying to asses the new threat. The creature was old, definitely weaker, and had a small, unassuming smile on its face.    
  
He growled.    
  
“Who are you? Where am I?” he snapped, hating how his voice refused to intimidate in the deep baritone his father’s did - no time for such thoughts, he had to get out of there, he had to get home - his eyes trained on the old creature. “What is this place?”    
  
If his sudden aggressiveness was any surprise to the creature, it didn’t show on its face, nor did its smile diminish at all, there was something tense in its posture, but not threatening at all, it was more a tired sort of sadness that Vegeta had seen in veterans and generals that surrounded his father, but no malice.    
  
The creature shook its head.    
  


“Hey, it’s ok, little one,” it tried to sooth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I found you and your little brother in the forest and brought you to my home.”

His… brother? Vegeta’s blood ran cold at the thought of having little Tarble around. His weakened, sickly little brother, who always looked up to him in adoration, his little tail curled around his own in search for comfort as he trained, the one who would always sneak into his bed and whisper pleads for stories and songs in the darkness, clammy hands clenching against his own. 

But no, Table was far away himself. Sent to another planet where he would be protected. Vegeta remembered his mother's hand tight against his shoulders in search of support as the two of them watched Table's pod fly away, the way his father had remained silent and contemplative for a week after the fact, as if trying to justify, if only to himself, the sin he had committed. 

_ 'We are the keepers of the saiyan race, son _ ,' his father had told him as he finally managed to center himself, yet his eyes remained in space. Most likely still looking for his second born.  _ 'The bloodlust that has made our kind so powerful courses through our veins and we, the rulers of this world, need to learn how to harness it, control it, we are the strongest in all the ways that matter _ .'

Vegeta forced himself to even his breathing, remembering his father's words. He was the strongest in all the ways that mattered and yes, he was scared - he could admit that much to himself - but he was the Saiyajin prince, and he would not be pray to his emotions. 

"What do you mean by my brother?" he asked is a low growl.

The creature stared at him for a second. 

"The baby?" he answered. "I found you and a baby unconscious on the mountains. Aggressive little thing that one. Only calms down when I place him with you." 

The child finally noticed that there was a little tail wrapped around the tip of his own, and even smaller hand reaching for his. 

Vegeta turned. 

Indeed a babe was staring at him with wide black eyes, his lips stretched in a gummy smile. 

Vegeta allowed himself to sit onto the bed once more, as if testing this creature's apparent non threat and was surprised when the child in question instantly crawled into his lap, a soft purr making his little chest shake as he wrapped himself around the prince. 

"Where… are we?" Vegeta asked more to himself than anything. Still, he was not shocked when the old man replied with a soft.

"This is Mount Paozu, we are a few hours from the city if you…"

"No…" Vegeta interrupted, hands clenching. "What… planet is this?"

The old creature stared. 

"Planet?" It asked. "This is Earth, kid."

The Prince's frown deepened, unsure why such an inefficient name had been given to this planet. Almost all habitable planets had earth, this one was not special. 

"Earth," he repeated. Trying the word for himself. He had never heard of such planet. 

"Yup," the old creature nodded, confused. 

"And what are you?" Vegeta asked, allowing the babe in his lap to play with his fingers curiously. Saiyajin children were beings of pure instinct. If the child did not appear threatened then it was likely the old creature was not a danger to them. 

"Me?" the creature questioned. "My name is Son Gohan, you are in my house." 

Not what Vegeta had wanted to know, but it informed him of something else. This creature did not understand the universe that surrounded him. He did not know of other worlds and other creatures.

This Earth planet was, therefore, far removed from any interplanetary alliance. 

Why were they here? 

He needed information the creature obviously could not provide for him. And while Vegeta knew this Son Gohan was not a threat there was no guarantee he was alone or that any other creature of this planet could not pose a threat to him and the babe in his lap right now. 

He swallowed.

"We… was there anything… around us?" He asked hesitant. "When you found us?"

Son Gohan stared at them for a moment. 

"You mean the giant egg?" He asked finally. 

Vegeta swallowed. 

"Giant … egg?"

Son Gohan nodded. 

"Yes, the little one brought me to this giant cracked egg in the forest. That's where I found you in fact," he said. "Brought the egg with me to the house in case you two needed it. Left it outside a few days ago."

Without needing to hear another word, Vegeta leapt from the window, hands immediately reaching for the door of the pod, fingers dancing over the keyboard to establish communication.

He heard the old creature Son Gohan running after him as he settled himself inside the pod, he heard the baby's cries as he clung to his back, tail wrapped around his waist, fingers surprisingly strong. 

Nothing mattered to him at the moment thought, only the answers to his questions were important.

"Earth," he read from the description the pod's computer provided for him. "Class H planet of primitive technology and weak inhabitants. Considered too far from the main empire routes for normal conquest. Status: inconsequential. Assignment: third class conqueror saiyan Kakarotto, son of Bardock."

At the sound of his name, the baby cooed, his tail entwining with Vegeta's once more. 

The boy turned to him. 

"You must be Kakarotto then," he surmised, allowing the tip of his tail to brush against the babe's cheek, letting him scent him and calm down like his Father had taught him to do to Tarble so many years ago. "I understand you presence in this planet, but why am I here?"

The baby grinned a gummy smile, hands stretching wide. 

"Ab'ba!" He beamed. "Ab'ba yuyu Kaka'tto!"

"Ab'ba? Your sire did this?"

It didn't make sense, Kakarotto was listed as a third class. And it stood to reason his sire was too. 

There was no communications from Vejitasei and Vegeta knew that could not be possible. His father would not leave rock unturned if he had disappeared. 

He bit his lip.

A few keystrokes and he was accessing the pod's records, everything that was said and done in the surrounding area of the pod would be recorded in the security system, usually a way to discourage thievery by the mere warning of Freeza's wrath.

Ah, there it was.

A man was opening the pod and quickly programing the destination with one hand while the other held a sleeping Kakarotto. the man was a soldier, Vegeta could tell from his arms, hardened and muscular like all soldiers, yet the shadows of paranoia coloring his eyes a shade darker than normal worried the young boy.

He watched the man stare at his sleeping son, heard his whispered explanations of a threat yet unconfirmed, ever softer apologies and promises of a swift return home once the danger had passed, he saw the man's scarred hand reaching to tuck a stray lock of the babe's hair away from his eyes.

Suddenly the man's nostrils twitched, his eyes straying from Kakarotto for a moment that seemed like an eternity and, somehow, Vegeta could see a million thoughts going through his mind by the ever changing nature of his eyes. 

Thinly veiled fondness, pride, confusion, thoughtfulness, realization, worry, horror, desperation and then, lastly, grim determination.

The man disappeared from the camera for a minute, only Kakarotto's chubby fingers reaching for the man were visible and then he was back holding… Vegeta himself in his arms. 

The child watched as the man silently, almost reverently, placed him on the pod by Kakarotto's side, securing the two and then stopping, if only for a second, to stare at them. 

Vegeta sat back, shocked.

He had been basically kidnapped.

He had been kidnapped by a soldier who had snapped and sent to another planet because… because he thought Lord Freezer of all people wanted to kill them all? Granted, he had not been happy to be called to Lord Freezer’s side, and he had known his own Father’s hands had been tied by the tyrant.    
  
He bit his lower lip.    
  
“Kukkkuu…” Kakarotto cooed, fingers reaching for his own, eyes wide, completely trusting. Vegeta turned to him, panic abating instinctually. He was not alone in this strange planet. He had Kakarotto by his side and, as the prince, it was his duty to ensure the babe’s survival. 

Then he heard it. 

Somehow the security of the pod had continued to record even as it was leaving the planet, and while the image displayed an unconscious Vegeta and Kakarotto, sleeping on the chair oblivious to the world, the audio had caught the emergency communication sent to all soldiers of the Imperial Army. 

Planet Vejita had been struck by a meteor shower and destroyed.

**No survivors.**

****** 

Son gohan had always thought that his later life in Mount Paozu would be a quiet one. He had been a warrior, one of the best in the world at that, and as he neared the end of his life he thought nothing would ever be able to surprise him. 

Finding a boy inside a metal egg and a baby in the middle of the forest had changed his mind. 

At first he hadn’t know what to think. 

Of course he had know that some families abandoned their children, not all parents were ready to be parents and not all families were as idyllic as one would like to believe - he had been abandoned as a young child himself, after all, but these ones were different, tail notwithstanding. 

Usually when children were abandoned they were malnourished and skittish, signs of abuse clear in the way they carried themselves and sure, while the baby was alone, he acted like a menace, biting and scratching and growling like a feral animal, but as soon as Son Gohan placed him around what he assumed was his unconscious older brother, the child instantly became happy and pliant, his little tail curled around the older child’s and little yips of contentment replaced growls and snarls. 

And the older boy's pointed questions, the blatant mistrust and confusion. 

Something was definitely different about those two.

He had run outside the moment the boy had fled via the window, his old legs unable to match such an amazing speed, but he hadn't had to run as fast as he had imagined, the boy was sitting inside their metal egg, eyes wide, lips parted as he heard a message in a language Son Gohan could not decipher, trembling little hands reaching to rewind the recording over and over again. 

He didn't have to understand the meaning of the language, however, to know that whatever the boy was hearing were bad news. 

The baby was holding onto him, cooing worriedly, his furry tail tight against the child's arm.

The boy looked at his little brother, eyes devoid of any light.

"We are the only ones left, Kakarotto." He whispered softly, resting on the seat as if sapped of all strength. "There are no other survivors."

Oh.

Maybe the heavens had sent these two to him, he thought. Maybe this was the way Kami Sama was telling him it was his duty to pass on the mantle of warrior to another generation.

Or maybe it was just that these two little ones needed someone who understood their loneliness and he did.

Whatever the case was, Son Gohan felt the call to a new adventure and eagerly took it, opening his mouth to offer his home to these two little orphans.

A voice interrupted him, however.

"Step away from the ship, boy," Son Gohan and the two boys watched on shock as a round black man gently landed on the grass before them, expressionless eyes never leaving the child's mistrustful ones.

"Who…" Gohan whispered. He had heard the tales his master had told him about humans with such abilities, but it was another thing altogether to witness it himself. 

The child stepped away from the ship, arms wrapped possessively around the baby, almost hiding him from sight of the newcomer, assessing this new threat and soothing the babe at the same time.

"My name is…" he began, cautious.

"It is not me who you must introduce yourself to, Saiyan," the man replied simply. 

The boys eyes widened and his hold on his precious cargo tightened. 

"How…" he hissed.

The man turned around. 

"The God of this planet orders your presence at his watchtower at once," the man said. "Son Gohan may accompany you should he wish to, but if you decide to ignore Kami Sama's summos do know that you will be exiled to space at once." 


	3. Chapter 3

Son Gohan had seen so many things in his life and most of them he was pretty sure the rest of the world would not believe if he was ever to tell about them and yet…

Yet…

He was pretty sure that if he wasn't the one currently before this world's deity he would have called bullshit himself. 

But there he was.

He would have wanted, later on, to have memorized the layout of the temple and the feel of the wind and the sky around him -he was so high up, his old Master wouldn't believe him if he were to tell - but right now his priority was to keep himself straight and his arms protective as he held the baby whom he had rescued no more than a week ago as it hissed and spit nervously and to stand protectively at the side of the other boy - a broken boy who had breathlessly declared him and his baby brother orphans not an hour ago, who had arrived into his life with broken bones and even more broken eyes - because it was obvious these two felt a threat Gohan himself could not identify in the old green creature before them.

"The newcomers, Kami," the black man - an attendant of the gods by the looks of it - declared respectfully. 

The green creature, Kami himself, nodded. 

"Identify yourself," he commanded, the tone of his voice quite clear in its expectation of reply.

Son Gohan opened his mouth to reply, brain spinning to make up a credible lie and wondering if Kami could read his thoughts before he could whisk the boys to safety.

"My name is Vegeta Iv," the child intoned before Gohan could interject. "Firstborn of King Vegeta III, prince of planet Vejitasei and acolyte of the goddess Sadla." 

Kami nodded, eyes narrowed, shoulders tense. 

"The whispers of the universe state that your planet was destroyed not too long ago," he commented. "Am I to believe you and that child are the only survivors left?"

The child hesitated for a millisecond before nodding.

"We are."

Kami's eyes narrowed further.

"Do not lie to me, prince," he said, his aged voice unable to hide the power of his being. 

Vegeta's frame tensed, his eyes wide, his skin paling.

"... There is… another," he finally admitted. "My younger brother Prince Tarble was sent to another planet a year ago. I do not know his location but I know of his well being." 

Kami's lips pursed, thinning. 

"I must confere from your ignorance you do not plan to go and live with him in this other planet?" 

Vegeta's whole body seemed to shrink in itself in shame.

The god’s aide frowned.

"Speak, child," he demanded. "You have offended Kami enough with your attempt at trickery."

The boy took a deep breath, almost too silent, too cautious.

"... We don't have a place to go, it's true. If I was on my own I might look for another planet for sure. But with a cub this young the danger outweighs the benefits as of present, yes," he admitted finally, eyes downcast, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Son Gohan swallowed.

"You two can stay with me," he offered, his voice as soothing as he could make it, his shoulders as relaxed as he managed given the circumstances. 

He knew he had made the right call when the child's eyes turned to him in surprised awe, as if kindness of any kind was foreign to him.

"I appreciate your offer, Son Gohan," Kami said, nodding sagely. "You will take the babe with you, then." 

The child, the prince, turned back to the god, eyes wide and panicked. 

"What?" He asked and it was obvious to Gohan that he was trying his best not to raise his voice.

The god stared at him for a moment, silent and ancient.

"I will allow you two to remain on my planet," he said, as if he had not the lives of these children in his hands. "However I do not think two saiyajin together is safe for the humans on Earth. Therefore I shall keep you appart. Son Gohan will take the babe with him, teach him discipline. You will remain here, Saiyajin Prince."

Gohan couldn't believe what he had heard. Separate them? They were just children! And they had no one else in this world or beyond. Didn't Kami understand what he was doing? The cruelty of his words? 

The boy's, Prince Vegeta's hand tightened on the babe's for a second, his body rigid, his eyes wide and expressive, reflecting the fright and turmoil of his thoughts, his lower lip trembled for a moment, his chin stubbornly locked in place by what the old man could guess was sheer will alone. 

If he could only guess what the child was thinking, if he knew of a way … 

"... If… if Son Gohan 'aulee is agreeable," he said finally, his voice soft, determined. His confidence palpable and paper thin at the same time. "Then we are thankful for your mercy, your holiness."

What?

**** 

Vegeta lowered his head in deference to the god, hoping against all hope that the deity of this planet could not read his thoughts as the rumors of Nameks his mother had whispered during lessons to engage his curiosity stated. 

He had not expected the god of the planet to be of one of the old races of the universe, much less one that was was as wary of their race as the god was. He could see his mistrust in the slight tightening of his hands and the almost imperceptible purse of thin lips. 

This Kami knew of them and most likely was well aware of the destruction the saiyajin were capable of. 

His first instinct was to rebel, to strike the god where he stood for his daring and to grab Kakarotto, his charge, his duty, and disappear. He was fast and he knew how to survive, if he could fix the pod they could disappear amongst the stars and leave this Earth planet behind, maybe even hide from Freezer's reach until Kakarotto was not as vulnerable. 

But he also knew it could take a while for him to fix the pod, and there was no guarantee that he could defeat the god of this planet in power alone, much less expect no retaliation for his disobedience if he did.    
  
Vegeta knew that most gods were unassuming, the God of Destruction himself had been shorter that most warriors, his muscles wiry and his eyes the color of the universe. He was built for speed and strategy, his mother had explained as she tried to soothe him and his brother, trying to ignore their father’s frightened scent that seemed to permeate the throne room as he prostrated himself before the god. 

It was the burden of the gods, to watch and protect their planets, to impart their knowledge and preserve order, to gift their blessings when appropriate and punish when necessary.   
  
The universe itself gave them the power needed to fulfil their roles. 

And him, the last scion of the royal house has seen with his own eyes the enormity of such power.. 

No, Vegeta could not underestimate the god of this Earth planet. 

His only option of escape would be space, but the cub was too young, and there was no guarantee he would be able to provide the nourishment such a young saiyajin needed while travelling.

… and going to Freezer for support was not an option. 

His fingers tightened around Kakarotto’s, trying to calm the distressed babe with his scent. 

He was the prince, the last royal alive. He was raised from birth to guide the Saiyajin race into the future, to ensure their continued survival and to bring them to new heights. To open the universe to them. 

It was his duty, therefore, to put the needs of his subjects before his own, to procure for them and to make sure they survive and thrive. His father knew it and told him so the day Freezer requested he be sent to his presence. Had sat with him - hands calloused and strong and so very gentle and pained on his head, 

\- and explained that he needed to do so in order to keep their race safe. That Vegeta needed to lower his chin and survive, because Vejiitasei would need him. 

But Vejitasei was gone. 

Only he and Kakarotto remained. 

The old earthling Son Gohan was a kind creature. He had taken them in, cared for them while Vegeta himself remained unconscious and had even accompanied them, offering them his home before his own god. Son Gohan had the build of a warrior and his hands had the scars of battle in them.

With a breath that Vegeta refused to allow to shudder, he set his eyes to the floor and opened his mouth: 

"... If… if Master Son Gohan is agreeable," he said, ordering his voice to remain soft yet strong, for his whole body not to betray his own turmoil. "Then we are thankful for your mercy, your holiness."

Vegeta understood his duty as the prince. 

His father had accepted the leash Freezer had placed around his neck in order to keep their race from extinction. 

Vegeta would do the same for his own subject. 

The god of the Earth paused, seemingly not expecting such response, but he eventually nodded, composing himself. 

“Very well, you have an hour to instruct Son Gohan on all he will need for the care of the child,” he ordered, turning around and slowly walking to his temple. “Then Mr. Popo will take them both back to Mount Paozu.”    
  
Vegeta nodded silently. 

“Please come with me then, sir,” he requested, walking farther away and hoping the old creature Son Gohan would follow him.

Something calm and cold settled in the pit of his stomach when the old creature did, something not even the eyes of the god's aide - Mr. Popo - could rattle from him.

"Child," Son Gohan began hesitantly. "You know we can go. Kami can't force you." 

Vegeta sighed, eyes set on the unfamiliar horizon, blue and orange and pink instead of red and green, so alien to him, so achingly not his own sky.

"He can," he corrected. "This is his planet after all. The earth brings him awareness of all life and there is no place you would be able to hide us. Your punishment would be too severe." 

He saw the old creature frown, most likely thinking of a way, stubborn to a fault.

He kind of liked this creature.

"Kami is fulfilling his role as guardian, Master Son Gohan," he continued. "You must have realized by now we are not like you. Kakarotto and I."

The old creature hesitated. 

"You are stronger, yes…" he admitted.

"We are not of this planet, sir. We are saiyajin from a planet many light-years away," Vegeta explained. "We are a race of Noble warriors who live for the thrill of combat, who breathe and die in the battlefield."

Son Gohan frowned once more, his training as a warrior unable to let him see what could possibly be so dangerous about two children.

Vegeta's lips tightened.

"We are known as the hunting dogs of the empire, wherever Emperor Freezer of the Cold dynasty wants us to attack and conquer, that's where the saiyajin army will go."

"I thought you said you were the prince," son Gohan inquired, shifting a fuzzy Kakarotto in his arms. 

Vegeta nodded, shoulders squaring.

"Our planet was subjugated by an intergalactic tyrant from another sector," he said, as if the words were physically painful to utter. "We have become his executioners ever since."

Vegeta could feel that the old creature wanted to protest but he could not waste his time. This might be the last time he saw his subject face to face. 

"Kakarotto," he called, feeling suffocating duty and pride when the cub's eyes instantly locked with his, clear and focused, hanging onto his every word. "This is your new teacher, Son Gohan, you will live with him and respect him as you would any instructors. This is your new planet and you will not harm it."

The cub yipped in concussion, fingers reaching to squeeze Vegeta's. 

The child's tight mouth pursed further. 

"That is an order, Kakarotto."

The cub’s eyes flashed ruby red, fury evident in his round face. Vegeta continued to stare into the cub’s eyes, his own face expressionless. Kakarotto’s hair stood up, his small fangs bared. 

“No,” Vegeta said, firm. 

The cub’s lips curled, his small nose buried itself on Vegeta’s wrist, soft huffs of breath tickling his skin. Tarble used to do that too, once upon a time, his own instinctive gesture of submission towards his older brother, acknowledgement. 

Vegeta then turned towards Son Gohan, noting the open confusion in his aged face, the thousands of protests and questions that must be plaguing his wrinkled mouth. This creature, this earthling, didn’t know of their customs, didn’t understand their race or their instincts but the young prince wasn’t sure how much Kami would allow him to divulge, considering he wanted the two saiyajin separated. 

He swallowed.

"We saiyajin are ruled by our bloodlust, it drives is to fight, keeps us looking for stronger and stronger opponents. Kakarotto is no different, he will need discipline and constant challenging," he said, swallowing. "Please teach him to meditate if you can." 

With stiff fingers the child removed his own cape, light blue and heavy looking, draping it around the babe with utmost care. 

"My scent should be able to help him calm down as he grows," he explained to the shocked old creature. "He will know I'm around, even if he can't find me." 

"What should I tell him if he asks?" Son Gohan asked, eyes set on the babe currently cuddling against the rough fabric of the cape, little tail limp in defeat. "He will want to know where you are in the future." 

The child frowned, an eternity and a second passing through eyes that seemed so young and so old at the same time, before he shook his head.

"Tell him you found him in the woods," he replied. His fingers set against the babe's cheek, letting him breathe in his scent for the last time. "That you know nothing more. It will be less heartbreak for him." 

"You honestly think you two will never meet again," son Gohan whispered sadly. 

The child sighed.

“Our planet is no more, our race is dead. Kakarotto and I need to survive, no matter the cost,” he said, so matter of fact that a part of Son Gohan felt like breaking. “Thank you for your kindness, Son Gohan ‘aulee.” 

The child finally turned his back to them, the setting sun marking his profile, the dark of his hair and making him sparkle like a statue. 

Son Gohan bit his lips for a second, feeling powerless and small before such determination on a child far too young for such responsibilities. 

“My home will always be open to you, Prince Vegeta,” he said suddenly, knowing deep inside himself he might never have another chance to reassure this brave little boy before him. 

Vegeta stopped for a second, shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly.

Finally, he nodded, not turning to regard them, and walked away in silence. 


	4. Chapter 4

The following day showed Kami that this prince Vegeta was a different sort of creature than any other students he might have trained before. 

The moment Mr. Popo had left with Son Gohan and the child, he had approached the young prince and sent him to meditate, wary that the forced separation from him charge would ignite the child's more destructive tendencies. The boy had simply nodded, his head lowered in deference as he sat on the ground, eyes closed, a completely different posture on his hands than those the old Namekian had ever seen before, lips moving silently, almost gently caressing the air, words in a language he had not recognized being breathed into the evening wind. 

He had gone to prepare and mostly forgotten about the boy, sure Mr. Popo would take care of everything once he was back, only to rise with the dawn and see the child still on the floor, eyes closed, lips moving, fingers dancing in intricate patterns that seemed to weave in and out the morning dew. 

The only indication of the child's discomfort were the single bead of sweat clinging to the tip of his rounded cheek and the way his parched lips seemed to stick together as he exhaled.

Kami went to look for Mr. Popo, wondering if the boy had risen at dawn and gone back to meditate as part of a routine. 

Mr. Popo, who has been busy preparing breakfast had responded to his inquiries with horror, silent feet dashing to the child's side in an instant.

Kami had not told the child when to stop with his meditation, sure Popo would retrieve him once the subzero temperatures of the night settled.

Popo had not told the child he could stop his meditation, assuming the boy himself would go to sleep once he was calm enough. 

Since no one had told the child he could stop… the child had not stopped. 

He sat in that little corner of the garden, knees locked together, hands waving unseen patterns, lips reciting a rote as the sun set and the air chilled to the point of freezing, hours upon hours upon hours. 

No food, no water, no rest.

Kami could feel his old heart stutter inside his chest when Popo carefully wrapped a warm blanket over the child's shoulders. Not because it took a few seconds for the prince to realize he had been touched. Not because he could now see the pallor on Vegeta's skin. 

No.

Something aching and heavy settled inside of him when the boy finally opened his eyes with the most absolute confusion reflected in them. As if the fact that Popo was offering comfort to him was a complete puzzle, something so absolutely impossible that a simple blanket around his shoulders was akin to a miracle. 

What had the boy expected of them?

What kind of life had this child lived that something as simple as this was a surprise?

Vegeta seemed to see the grimness in their faces and came to an upsetting conclusion, his forehead creased and night sky colored eyes frantic.

"My apologies, your holiness," he whispered, his voice hoarse, dry yet forced in its calmness. "I did not realize…"

"What did you not realize, child," Kami had to ask, not understanding whatever thought process the saiyajin child was experiencing, not the cause of his apparent distress. 

The child swallowed once, twice, eyes set on bony knees.

"My presence is a disruption," he replied, hesitant. "And I have caused you and your esteemed aide upset." 

Kami felt himself hesitate, something he hadn't done in centuries, but this child was something he had not anticipated, something completely new and alien - more so because of his harsh upbringing than his otherworldly origin - and Kami, as the guardian and protector of Earth who had offered this child and his small charge sanctuary, it was his duty to care for him as he usually cared for his earthlings. 

The original Kami had cared for him when he arrived on Earth himself, the least he could do was care for this child as well. 

He sighed. 

“If you were a disruption you would not have been allowed to remain in this planet, child,” he said, softly. “Popo and I did not anticipate you would meditate to this degree. That is all.”    
  
The child blinked up at him, confusion evident.

“Your holiness ordered me to meditate,” he hesitated. “I did not want to disappoint.”

Popo sighed, wrapping his arms around the boy and lifting him, nodding to Kami and walking towards the dining room. He did not mention to the deity that the child’s body had immediately grown tense as a board, completely immobile save for the soft little tremors he could detect passing over his skin if only because of his centuries of avid training, the distress in the boy’s ki a beacon to the both of them. 

He took the child inside and carefully put him down on one of the cushions he had prepared that morning, carefully placing a cup of warm tea between his small hands. 

“Drink up,” he said, frowning when the boy eyed his cup with confusion. Prince Vegeta seemed to interpret his frown in a different light, however, because he immediately lowered his head and drank the content, barely pausing to breathe.

Kami joined them at the table a few seconds later, hesitant in ways Popo had not seen since the days he was but a student himself at the lookout, it seemed like neither of them knew how to react to a child such as this. 

“We are not going to hurt you, child,” Kami said, reaching for his own tea. “You do not need to lower your head.” 

The child bit his lower lip, not reassured. 

“I cannot presume, your holiness,” he replied, softly. “You are the god of this planet and my respect is the least I could offer. You are giving me and my subject sanctuary after all.” 

Popo blinked. 

“You seem knowledgeable of the planetary deities, child,” he wondered out loud. “Is this the custom of the goddess of your former planet?”

The child shook his head. 

“Umm no, sir,” he whispered. “Sadla did not show herself to her people, not even to the royal family.”

“But you have met other gods before today, haven’t you?” Kami inquired, curious. Back in Namek gods and sages were one and the same, but the deference, the absolute fright the child displayed towards him was something completely different to the way the namekian interacted with the great Guru sage.

The child nodded, his head impossibly low. 

“A god visited our planet once, yes,” he whispered. “My f… the King did not want us to utter his name, but he said he was called the God of Destruction.”

Vegeta’s lowered eyes did not catch the way Kami and Popo exchanged shocked glances over his head, his chilled ears missed Kami’s soft gasp of surprise. 

If the god of destruction was the measure to which this child was comparing all gods it was no wonder he was willing to submit himself to Kami’s mercy. He probably thought Kami was as petty or as impulsive as Lord Beerus and, with no where else to go in the universe, kneeling at the feet of Kami was the only way he had to insure his and the cub’s survival. 

Kami felt conflicted. 

He was not a cruel god, he was merely a guardian, a protector of the planet, only to act if an outside force was to threaten his realm. It was the main reason why he had acted immediately as he had become aware of the presence of saiyajin in his planet. 

Saiyanjin were dangerous, destructive, the executioners of the empire, relishing in the thrill of battle and bloodshed.

Had there only been the cub arriving to Earth, he might have shown leniency and not even bothered to interfere with the babe’s life. A babe could easily be trained, controlled. 

But there had been two, and while Kakarotto was a cub and would forget his old culture of merciless conquerors, the prince was the remnants of a world he did not want tainting his own. 

He  _ had  _ to separate them. 

But as he listened to the child describing the destroyer god with accuracy, the strength of his muscles and the terrifying power that seemed to cling to his skin and warp the air around him, Kami realized that while he had expected the monsters of the legends, Prince Vegeta was nothing but a frightened - most probably traumatized - child that was ready to offer his own life for sanctuary. 

But then again, Sage Guru had told them all, centuries ago, that Saiyanjin were cunning as they were strong, they had used their tricks on many planets before blasting all life into dust, and he had listened and he had learnt as Guru warned them all. 

Saiyanjin were not to be trusted. 

He was the guardian and protector of this planet. 

  
Despite whatever pity he might feel towards this child before him, Earth was his priority. 

“I am not a destroyer god,” he corrected, as he made his resolve. “I am a protector god, this planet is my realm.” 

Vegeta nodded, eyes wide. 

“I… see…” he said, little hands -  _ too small, too young, what was he doing? _ \- curling around the still warm clay of his tea cup. 

“You do not, not yet,” Kami said. “I am to protect this planet from outside forces, that is my duty as their deity, and also, what you shall do here.” 

The child blinked, confused. 

“I… I’m sorry?” he asked. 

“This planet is brimming with life and power, child, and there are many that covet that life for themselves,” Kami continued. “I am the shield that covers this planet and you, in due time, shall become the sword to my shield.”

  
“A sword…”    
  
“You are a warrior by blood, are you not?” Kami asked, satisfied when the prince nodded slowly. “You will become the attack force against those that threaten my planet. A champion of sorts.” 

****   
  
Vegeta couldn’t believe his ears. 

He could see that the god of this planet Earth was a different sort of god than the destroyer god that had threatened Vejitasei, that had forced the King to his knees in submission. He held himself with the same certainty of his power, yes, but this god was softer, that the destroyer god, older, wiser? 

Vegeta had done everything that had been asked of him as it was his duty. Kami asked him to meditate, so he had meditated, at first hesitant since he knew only the meditation of the temple of Sadla his mother had taught him, but as soon as he realized there would be no reprimand for such disrespect, he found his fingers moving despite the absence of the prayer beads he would have usually held between them, his lips moving through the motions of the words of Sadla herself, asking for clarity, for strength, reminding himself of the fire in his blood. 

The god had left then, and Vegeta hadn't been sure when he was supposed to stop. 

He was sure the god and his aide considered him a dirty creature, he could see it in the way their eyes had tracked his every movement the moment he set foot on their temple, the distrust and wariness with which they spoke to him, about him, so maybe Kami wanted him to cleanse himself, his mind and soul? 

Maybe they would have him stop when they considered him calm enough? 

It was different from what he was used to, but this planet was different from Vejitasei - Vejiasei was gone, gone, gone,  _ gone -  _ and he would endure. He only had to think of this as another endurance training like the ones he had gone through in the wetlands. 

He could do it.

He had to. 

He was not sure how many hours had passed, time was different now and the god and his aide were suddenly there, wrapping him in cloth that was as soft as the clouds and warm like the King’s cape on his shoulders, twin frowns of displeasure were curling on their faces and Vegeta knew that he had, somehow, failed on his first task, he had, unknowingly, offended the deity and maybe he was going to be exiled. Could he plead at least they let Kakarotto stay? Would that be a bigger affront to the god?

But then aide Popo was carrying him inside the table and placing a warm cup of something that smelled like herbs and flowers into his chilled hands and they were surrounded by plates that made his mouth water and his insides curl and ache. 

Was this another test?

A punishment for his failure?

Torture?

Aide Popo told him to drink and, somehow, Vegeta made his frown deepen, so he drank, almost failing to control the shivers that ran down his back as his body temperature rose, and Vegeta lowered his head, respectful and silent. 

He could not show weakness. 

He could  _ not.  _

But Kami and Aide Popo were not displeased, they were just curious, their questions confused him but he answered to the best of his abilities, describing as much as he remembered of the God of Destruction and his frightening power that had set the air around him ablaze. 

He tried to keep his voice as soft and as meek as he could, remembering the enormity of a god’s power, soothing whatever grievance he had caused.

It took more effort than he would admit not to slump in relief when the deity told him of his new purpose. 

He had done it. 

He would not be expelled from the planet. 

Moreso, he would be permitted to train, to fight.. to hunt? 

A sword to compliment the god’s shield, he thought to himself. It made sense, a deity cannot leave the planet, but he could certainly send him, a warrior, to fight in his stead. 

Vegeta guessed that it might not be so different from the life Freezer would have given him. 

He had resigned himself to live and to fight for one master once, he could do it for another, he thought as he allowed himself to wrap an arm around his abdomen, fingers surreptitiously trying to sooth the twisting of his organs. 

Kami, however, seemed to catch his movement. 

“Eat now,” he ordered, sipping his own cup of herbs and flowers. “For now you shall eat until you had your fill, and you will rest for the remainder of the day. Tomorrow you will start training under Mr. Popo.” 

Vegeta nodded, staring at the small plate laid before him. 

Aide Popo served him another cup of herb water. 

“Do not hesitate if you need more to eat or drink,” he advised, his voice growing soft. “One of your priorities now will be your health.”

Vegeta nodded, unsure. 

Well, the god would have no use for him if he was ill or weakened, he guessed. A broken sword could not fulfil its duties, so it made sense Aide Popo wanted him to look after himself. 

With another whispered gratitude he began to eat, another exercise in will he would do, however, to make himself eat slow, not to spill a single crumb. 


End file.
